Forget Me Not
by nemain13
Summary: Another Delana ship - Get on board, get on board.  Slightly AU; What if Elena was NOT compelled when Damon told her he loved her?  Fun proceeds from here.  M, well, because it's me.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is another Delena ship. Get on board, get on board. It's M because I roll like that. It's a little AU because, hey, I also roll like that. I don't let no stinking canon get in the way of my story, bebe. This is long and key-lime-pie filled. Forks a-ready? Dig in, precious._

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><p>I.<p>

It's funny how things work out. Little decisions, the tiniest things change the course of major events in ways nobody could have possibly foreseen. There are a thousand examples of it….the old proverb about the nail, the horseshoe, and the battle. The fable about a butterfly's errant flapping on one side of the world causing a hurricane's destruction on the other. The night Elena Gilbert stuffed a single stalk of vervain in the shallow little right-hand pocket of her pajama bottoms because her locket was gone and therefore could not be compelled to forget Damon Salvatore's confession of love.

II.

"I need to say it once. You just need to hear it. I love you, Elena. And because I love you, I can't be selfish with you. Why you keep doing this—-I don't deserve you…but my brother does. God, I wish you didn't have to forget this…but you do."

When Damon had made his confession, she'd seen the pain, the absolute agony in his eyes. She'd stayed still at first from the shock of it. She'd known he'd had feelings of some kind for a long time. Hadn't everyone, hadn't even _Katherine_, said it was there? Still, she'd found it easy to put that unpleasant truth aside. There was always so much else going on, and he made it so easy for her to ignore, was always ready to cover up any act of kindness with a bit of jackassery following hard on its heels….

When the shock of it wore off and she realized that he meant to compel her, knew nothing of the vervain, she knew she was going to have to pretend. Perhaps it was a survival instinct that had kicked in, like some animal before a master predator. When she'd realized what he meant to do, what it had meant to him, she'd played along, prayed she could pull it off…. She'd gone docile before him even as she'd seen the tear slip down his cheek, mouthed the words back to him, felt him kiss her, and even though her strongest impulse had been to pull him into her arms to fight that pain, she'd let him go.

Because she recognized the situation for what it was. It was that rarest of all moments, a chance to see Damon with all his masks off, all the armor he wore instinctively to protect himself from the world removed, something he almost never chose to reveal to anyone shown to her this night only because he had been confident he could cover it again, make it disappear with a wave of his magician's hand. She had only seen flashes of it, glimpses of it before, but those moments when she'd seen that real soul behind all the bullshit and the flirtation, behind the savagery and the come-ons, Elena had liked that man.

And then of course something always happened.

He turned Matt's sister. Or Isobel. Or he snapped Jeremy's neck in a fit of rage.

But then the coin flipped and he killed for her, rescued her, brought back her locket….

She lay back on her bed staring up at the ceiling, at the pattern of shifting light and dark as the moon made shadows through the nearly-bare tree branches outside her window. She unconsciously twisted the charm he'd returned to her, worrying it back and forth on its chain as she turned the situation over and over in her mind.

Yeah. Damon…unsettled…her. This was a problem she never had with Stefan. Since the first meeting with him, the first time she'd even seen him, she had known what her feelings were for Stefan. They were simple, easy, pure water in a stream with no obstructions. With Damon, though….

There had always been _something_. From the first moment she had turned in the entryway of the boarding house and found him standing way too close to her, deliberately crowding into her personal space and challenging her, trying to throw her off-balance, she'd been aware of it.

She was also aware that he watched her. When they were at the Grill. When everyone was at her house. When just the three of them, she, Stefan, and Damon, were on the couches at the boarding house. Anywhere. All the time. She could feel his gaze on her sometimes like the touch of a hand, like fingertips running along her skin. Sometimes when she turned to look at him in accusation or question, he would glance away. Sometimes he'd just grin and arch his brow in a manner she was sure he thought enticing, inviting an acidic comment from her. Sometimes, though, the times that made her most uncomfortable, he met her challenge straight on, looked her over with something in his eyes that she would not name, refused to give him rights to with the naming, and held her trapped there, pinned there, locked in the depths of those unbelievably blue eyes until she was the one to look away at last.

_So what do I do now? How am I going to pretend not to know this? It would have been so much easier if he had actually been able to compel me. _

She rolled over onto her side, drew her bear into her arms and eventually tumbled into troubled dreams of blue, blue eyes that watched her from shadowed darkness. She did not feel the fingertip that gently stroked the hair back from her temple, but although she had gone to bed on top of the cover, when she awoke, she was neatly tucked in against the chill of the autumn morning.

III.

"You _can't_ be serious."

Stefan was moving around the room gathering information and sorting things into piles as they talked. He looked over his shoulder at her as he reached up to pull a heavy book off one of the shelves.

"Elena, I have to try it. Bonnie thinks it could work. She has to know more than she's telling. She _always_ knows more than she's telling, and I really don't think she's going to tell Damon, do you?"

Damon smiled from where he lounged against the back of couch, and it really wasn't an especially pleasant thing to see. "Oh. I don't know. I can be so _terribly_ charming when the mood takes me. I'm a natural people person with … powers of persuasion to move the heart…." His arms were crossed, and nobody missed his hands tightening into fists.

Stefan sighed. "Exactly. And we don't have time for you two to stand there and bicker with each other through that spell wall. We both know she's more likely to talk to me, don't we?"

Elena looked down at the shiny surface of the table beneath her hands. He was right.

_It's logical. Totally logical. And it will probably work. Katherine will tell him anything if he pushes __the right buttons. Of course, what he might have to do to push those buttons…. _Thoughts of a hard right hook delivered to that smirking, pouting face that looked so much like her own were suddenly very satisfying indeed, and the fingertips that had been tracing patterns on the table curled slightly.

She took a little breath, and when she glanced up, Damon was observing her with one of his subtle, cat-like smiles.

_Not funny, Damon._

She narrowed her eyes at him. His expression became one of outright amusement and he held up his hands in mock innocence, turning away to occupy himself with the ever-present supply of liquor behind him. She pushed her hair out of her face in annoyance, both that she'd had the thought in the first place and that Damon had so clearly read it.

_He sees too much too often. Why can't….why can't Stefan see **more** sometimes?_

As if on cue, Stefan put down the book, crossed the room, and drew her into his arms. She pulled him close, relishing that feeling of being safe that always came with being held by him. He kissed her gently on the forehead. Behind her she heard the sound of a heavy decanter thudding onto the table with less grace than the material deserved.

"Look, Bonnie can't keep undoing and redoing the spell. We've already established that avenue is closed to us. We were amazingly lucky last time. So, I'm going to have to try some different tactics this time."

Elena felt her heart shiver. "Like…what, Stefan?"

Stefan hesitated, and then lifted her hand to his lips. "Whatever it takes to get what we need. Whatever it takes to keep you safe." He pressed a slow gentle kiss to her hand and gazed up at her. Elena forced a smile. _That's a deliberate non-answer. I recognize those when I meet them…. He's not telling me something. But….It would all be fine, right? It was Stefan. _

As if on cue, Damon snorted, rolling his eyes. "Mm-hmm. Now if we've all had our sentimental moment, I do believe there are werewolf experts waiting on us… " He turned to Elena.

She leaned up and kissed Stefan, holding him as long as she could, mindful as she always was that it could be for the last time. Damon muttered something obscene just loudly enough to be heard and turned away from them grabbing his coat and walking out the door leaving it open as he went.

"Whenever you're ready. I'm not going to stand around all day and watch you two fornicate standing," he called back into the house.

Some little part of her could not deny the spike of triumph she felt at that. She ruthlessly kicked that part down and focused on Stefan again as she broke the kiss and looked up into his eyes. "Just be careful," she whispered.

Stefan smiled against her lips. His eyes flickered to the stiff back of his departing brother as Damon stalked down the walk to his car. "You, too," he replied. His arms tightened just a little, and then he let her go.

IV.

The blue convertible raced south along roads bathed in the golden light of late evening. Elena slept, her seat tilted back just a little, the wind blowing her hair slightly, strands of it teased across her cheeks and lips. Damon was spending as much time watching the enticing silhouette of her face and throat as he was the two-lane highway.

The desire to touch her was almost unbearably strong. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, refocused his attention on the road for the three-hundreth time. Elena shifted in her sleep making a tiny sound. His eyes ripped back to her, devouring the way the light bathed her in the new angle.

One strand of hair, larger than the rest, blew across her mouth. She stirred restlessly at the irritation, her hands in her lap twitching in a precursor to rising to brush the strand aside.

_Nope. Can't stand it. _

He reached out and gently pulled the offending lock back with his index finger. As he did, her mouth opened on a little sigh, and the shift in position caused his fingertip to trail across her full bottom lip. She made another small noise, this one undeniably pleased at the touch, and he jerked his hand back as though burned as she turned toward the accidental caress. Her hand came up to wrap around his, and he grimaced.

_Great, jackass. Caught in a trap of your own making. Now she's going to wake up and find you here like this, assume the worst, well, assume the obvious, anyway, and rip you a new one. _

He looked down at her fingers clutched around his, reveled in the feeling of her cheek lying against his hand. That dark thing inside him laughed.

_You know what I always say. In for a penny…._

He gently stroked his thumb across her lips again, and when she turned her face trustingly into his hand to be touched again, he almost stopped the car then and there. Every single thing about her called to him. He hungered for her on every conceivable level: heart…mind…body…soul (_he assumed there was still one banging around in there somewhere although he only ever really thought about this when he contemplated her_)…blood…. From some impossible place, he dragged up a much-dented and incredibly-dusty angel of his better nature, shoved it forward, threatened it into doing its job.

_No. Won't play by those rules. Not with her. No. Hands off._

And then her head moved against the seat back again, against his palm again, as she drew that fascinating lip between her teeth ever so briefly and released it on a troubled sigh. She murmured something. Even his vampire ears couldn't make out all the words as she spoke but one of them was... "Damon…."

_And then again…._

Glancing back at the road, he saw the turn-off for a rural road ahead, swung into it, stopped the car. Now he could focus all his attention on Elena. Careful not to wake her, he leaned down, studying her face, allowing the fingertips of his free hand to trace the contours he knew so well, trailed softly down her neck. He brought his thumb back up to rub against her mouth.

_What IS she dreaming? How am I involved? Do I dare to hope it's good? Do I dare hope it's at least good and dirty?_

"Damon," she sighed again, and her eyes opened. He froze as she focused on him.

_Ah well. You knew this was too good to last. You knew that if she woke and caught you, hand in the cookie jar as it were, the best you could hope for was a slap in the face. Yet you did it anyway, didn't you? Well, get ready. Song's done; piper must be paid…. _

His mouth was open and the first breath was indrawn for the first sardonic comment when her hands twisted in his hair and pulled him down to her.

V.

She'd been dreaming of her lover. It was not the first time she had dreamed it. She was being kissed by him most thoroughly, most expertly. Her lover was not gentle or sweet. He did not kiss her hand or treat her like a delicate flower. His hair was not copper. There was nothing of the puppy dog or white knight about him. The lover in her dream was all panther dark and ice blue as he stalked her, claimed her, possessed her.

So when she awakened and still those same cerulean eyes were there inviting her to drown again, perhaps she could be forgiven for remaining lost in the dream….

VI.

At first, Damon was so shocked that he did not move as Elena pressed her mouth to his. His reflexes recovered before his reason did. As the taste of her, something he'd been denying himself and dreaming of for so long came to him, he paused for just a moment to savor it, felt a shiver run through him. His eyes slid closed as she continued to seek a response from him.

_That I ever was confused, that I ever thought Katherine was this…_

His hand slid into the mass of her hair, cradling, tangling, and he took.

VII.

This dream was more vivid than any Elena had had before. She could feel the silk of Damon's hair sliding through her fingers. She could smell him, something enticing and clean. And the kiss. The kiss was burning her alive. Never in any of her dreams before had he kissed her like this. Never had anyone anywhere kissed her like this. Like she was an essential part of life. Like she was a form of worship.

His tongue slid into her mouth, flickering against her own, retreated, returned to claim, and never had any of her dreams been so fervent. She realized that she could also feel his hands, one of them cradling her face, one of them hot suddenly against the skin of her side just under the edge of her shirt, spanning wide. She could even feel the metal of his ring there as that hand circled, slid higher. And when his questing hand covered her over her lacy bra and she bit his bottom lip not-too-gently in response, she heard his shuddering little groan and saw the blue of his eyes flash as hot as a welding torch before he took her mouth again.

The intensity of this dream was such that she could even feel the gearshift pressing into her leg, an irritating separation between their bodies…..

_Wait. Gearshift? Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…._

VIII.

He knew the minute it was coming. He knew the absolute instant whatever dream or spell or gift he'd been given ended. He saw the beautiful haze in her eyes lift, felt her stiffen against him, and he wanted oh, so desperately, something to kill.

_Because she was mine. For a minute there, she was mine. Her taste on **my** lips, her body in **my** hands, Oh God. She was mine…. And by her own choice._

He felt her hand start to swing, and he caught it, pinned both arms down next to her head with indolent ease.

"Really? Because I mean you wouldn't want to be a cliché or anything…."

"Damon, let me go."

He could feel her heart pounding against him like a caged bird, could see tears in her eyes, and the pain and regret made him savage, made him feel like hurting someone in return.

"Mmm. Now why would I want to do that when we're all so cozy here? You didn't want me to let you go a minute ago. Give me another minute," He lowered his head, nuzzled his way up neck gently, "and I promise you won't ask me again..." The last mouthed against her ear. His voice was pure sex, that casual seduction he used almost without thinking on so many. The twisted little smile, the wide eyes were back.

She turned her head to the side, guilt ripping into her. "Please…" she whispered.

He'd expected a fight, had been prepared for it, spoiling for it, ready to take out his pain on her through it. Instead, there was only this. _And Elena in pain was unbearable. _ He held her another moment only, let her go and moved away to his side of the car, and held his hands up to show that he meant her no harm.

She fumbled with the seatbelt, struggled with the door. He gently reached across her to pull the door lock up. Shoving open the door, Elena all but fell out of the car as she stumbled over the road right of way. She made her way across an open pasture's edge to sit under a large tree. The scent of the salt of her tears burned him like acid as did the tiny sounds she was trying to muffle with her hand stuffed into her mouth.

IX.

For his part, Damon was just going to let her cry, damn it.

_Because no fucking part of this is my fault. So if she's upset, then…then…so be it. I did not kiss her first. _

Elena's muffled sobs were not lessening.

_I did not open my eyes and pounce on somebody unsuspecting. Well, not today, anyway…._

The sound of it was like a little silver knife paring paper-thin slivers off his heart. He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and continued his inner rationalizations, determined not to get out of the car.

_I am not hypocritically pretending that I did not enjoy it. I am not…_

He glanced in his review mirror at the tiny figure sitting huddled under the shifting shade, arms around knees, head down, shoulders moving.

_I am not…. I am not… I am not believing I am getting out of this car after all of this. Jesus. I need to have my head checked._

X.

She heard him coming, the crunch of his boots on old grass and leaves. She was aware that this was a sort of peace offering on his part on some level because Damon never made any sound at all when he moved.

"No, Damon. Go away. There's nothing you can say that can fix this."

He settled himself on the ground next to her.

"But you haven't even heard it yet." He made one of his ridiculous faces at her, and she knew he was trying, what that must be costing. "I promise. It's great."

For a moment she felt the tiniest of smiles tugging at her lips despite her misery, and then she looked away. Her happiness was instantly squashed.

_Because maybe that's how this happened. Maybe I just can't be around him. Maybe that's why I dream of him. Maybe…_

"You're going to drive yourself crazy doing that, Elena." His voice was quiet, all traces of mockery absent. "Sometimes there's not a why. Chalk it up to a phase of the moon. Sun spots. Aliens."

She rolled her head over on her knees. "Aliens?"

He grinned, and she could see the faintest hint of fang in it. "Well. I don't know about you, but I've heard of stranger things…."

She reached out and put her hand on his hesitantly. "Is this how we're going to do this, then?"

He looked at her in total seriousness. She felt his hand turn over under hers, his long fingers lace together with hers. "Do what?"

"Deal with it. You know what I mean. The car. The fact that I…that you…that _we_…"

"Oh. _That_." He shifted, rolled his eyes just a little. "I thought you were talking about something important."

"Do not be flip about this." Her hand tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened refusing to let go of the contact now that he had it.

"I think you're forgetting which brother you've got, honey. I'm the one who's flip about pretty much everything…."

"Damon."

"There are two ways to deal with this, Elena. Scenario one: you can take that lovely little vervain necklace off and I can hoodoo you. You won't remember a blessed thing." He leered at her and circled his thumb against her palm. "Nope, not… a… blessed… thing." She jerked her hand out of his, and he laughed softly, glad to see her ire returning.

_That's my girl._

"And your next brilliant plan? I believe you said there were two. Or is the other one as good as the first?"

"I personally am even more a fan of option two. You'll have to judge for yourself, of course."

"Uh-huh." She was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Option two would involve you and me returning to the car and trying the kissing bit with you wide-awake…"

Her expression passed from merely suspicious to absolutely murderous, and he saw the muscle twitch he knew telegraphed a slap.

"…just so you have a baseline for comparison…"

And he let her hand crack across his cheek. He turned back to watch her stalking back to the car with a bitter grin on his face.

"Feel better now?" he yelled after her.

XI.

He was leaning against the side of the car when she got back to it, long legs and arms crossed, looking at her with that infuriating smirk on his face.

"Don't even…just…I don't…" Elena stopped to take a deep breath. She held her hand out in front of her in a warding gesture. "Just don't. Okay? Don't."

He rolled his eyes. "Look. One thing more and then I'm done. Call it option three if you like."

He could practically hear her teeth grinding, and some small part of him, some petty part of him he knew he should try to outgrow even at his age, enjoyed it just a little in this present circumstance.

"Option three would involve us both pretending that nothing happened."

She looked at him warily. "You mean…"

"It. Was. A. Kiss. That's all. It was not the end of the universe. I don't know what started it, or what hot little dreams of me you might have been having…"

"Damon," if words alone could kill, he'd be staked...

"…but I'm willing to put it aside if you are. I mean after all, what's one more deception among friends, right?"

She flinched, and he regretted his words just a little until she said…

"And you won't…won't tell Stefan?"

He raked his gaze over her, over the tear-stained face, over the lips still swollen from his kisses, over the body that had been his to touch not even an hour ago, and he smiled. It was the one with the broken glass in it. He bowed.

"Of course not, Elena. A lady's secrets and all that."

And he turned away and got in the car.

XII.

The hotel where they were staying in Florida had seen better days, but it was clean and quiet, so Elena had no complaints. Also, it was right on the beach, so she could look out her windows and see the endless rolling waves. It was soothing. Because of the age of the hotel, there were not individual balconies. Each room opened onto one long running balcony. That meant, of course, that even though they had parted earlier, since she was outside looking at the moonlight on the water, she was risking attracting the attention of…

"It's lovely, isn't it?"

He was standing too close to her as usual, so close his shoulder brushed hers as he leaned on the rail beside her. He was wearing a blue jacket he hadn't been in earlier when they'd gone to their separate rooms, a shirt in a paler shade of blue that made his eyes shine. She looked him over, and that slow predatory smile she knew all-too-well appeared.

"Like something you see, Elena?"

_Yes. Damn him. Yes. _

She made a face. "No. I was wondering why you changed clothes _after_ dinner."

He laughed softly. "Well….Your bedtime is not necessarily _my_ bedtime, precious. And we are in a place finally where I can go out and find someone appropriate to play with."

She turned that over in her head, found she didn't much care for it, looked back out at the uncomplicated movement of the tides.

"I…see." It hadn't occurred to her that he would leave her. It hadn't occurred to her that he would go out and…

"What? Don't like the idea that there might be women out there who would kiss me on purpose?"

The look she gave him should have dropped him where he stood. He was watching her now instead of the surging tides, back to the ocean, elbows resting on the railing. His head tilted, and he grinned.

_Okay. Done with this. He can go find his little toy for the night then…._

She moved to go back to her room only to find herself gently restrained. He had simply moved in front of her, blocked her way with his whole body, his hands resting lightly, lightly on her arms.

"Elena…okay. I'm sorry. Even for me, that was low. I admit it."

She shook her head, waved her hand vaguely at him, refused to look up.

"But you do make it _so_ irresistible sometimes…."

Her eyes shot to his.

"Me? Me! What did I do? How did I do anything to provoke…" She broke off as she saw him laughing at her.

"Yeah. Great. Good. Wonderful. And thanks. All me. Going to bed now, Damon. You go have a field day. I have a phone call to make anyway." She shoved past him and slammed the French doors to her room shut.

He sighed and turned away to head out for what he hoped would be a night of forgetting his brother's girlfriend.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Don't you love it when part two is ready to go this fast? I EXPECT REVIEWS.

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><p>I.<p>

On the dance floor, bodies writhed. The lights were dim in the corner booths like this one, intimate places for intimate actions. The DJ was competent, the music was loud, the bartender was serving drinks strong enough to knock down a bull elephant, and the clientele was a happy mix of unwise youth and beautiful age. Damon should have been in his perfect hunting ground.

He had barely had to walk across the edge of the dance floor to the bar to have been engaged by prey. By the time he'd ordered a drink, a selection to keep him busy for several nights (or one very busy, very happy one) was circling him. He'd smiled down into the glass and let their hunger for him build, ignoring them for just a bit longer, just until he finished this first drink of his own. When he sat down the empty glass down on the bar, a beautifully manicured hand brushed his even as a firm thigh pressed against his leg. He turned to glance at the owner of both, slowly taking in the beauty who smiled at him while telling the bartender, "He'll have another…."

Now he was sitting with her and two others in this booth and although his hunger for blood was satiated, he was still hungry for something else. He was restless. He was…bored. He looked at the women.

_Gorgeous. Predictably so. Redhead, Blonde, Brunette. Whooptee-freaking-doo. Each of them and all of them would follow me out of this club into wherever I chose to lead them. A hotel room. A back alley. The middle of the street. I could fuck them on this table, and they'd let me. Not one word of complaint. Been there. Done that. Etcetera, etcetera. _

One of the women snuggled into him, giggling. He absently petted at her hair the way one would an animal one was mostly fond of.

_This is not what I want. This gets…old. Ridiculous. Not that they don't have their uses…_

He could feel their blood warming his veins. He had taken only a little from each, been careful with his bite, compelled them to forget it already, to forget him as soon as they left the club.

_Going to have one hell of a hickey to explain away in the morning, aren't you, ladies? _

Whatever it was he had hoped to find other than a meal, it wasn't here.

_And you know what it is that you're wanting, don't you? Eyes that swallow your soul, and that mouth, so sweet to kiss, but so full of sarcasm and wit and banter. That heart so full of fire and fight, even when everything is going to hell around her. She's never afraid of me even when she's terrified. I'm wanting the real when I'm surrounded by the artificial. I'm wanting the rambling rose and all its thorns when I'm surrounded by hothouse flowers…._

He reached for his glass and drained it. It was time to go. He untangled himself from protesting curvaceous feminine flesh, threw cash at the bar bill in an unexpected act of contrition, allowed himself to be pulled into one last kiss by the brunette who had bought him that first drink, and then was out the door.

II.

"He…he's what?" Elena sat down hard on the bed. She felt like she'd been kicked. The cellphone almost fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

"Oh, Elena…I didn't want to tell you. He made me promise I wouldn't, and since it's Stefan, I thought…you know…." Bonnie's voice on the other end was riddled with guilt and worry. "I thought he was doing it for the right reasons. I thought…"

"How long? How long now has he been able…How long?" Elena's head was spinning. Nothing would make any sense.

"He came to me with the idea about three weeks ago, right after he got trapped in the tomb again and we got him out. He said he knew there was no way to lower and raise the spell again, but he thought that maybe, just maybe there was some way to create a talisman that could create some kind of gate or door in it, something that would fool it into letting the wearer pass. And when he started talking about it, I could see it in my mind suddenly, just as if it were already in my head, Elena, and I knew it could be done…"

Elena groaned softly. "No…"

Bonnie continued as though she hadn't even heard. "And I bound the spell onto a pendant that could be worn. He swore that he just needed it to get in to ask Katherine things about the curse. He said that if he could go in to where she was, take her things she needed, that he had a better chance of getting information out of her. None of us knew until tonight that….that…he was…that they were…that while she'd had him in there before they had…."

Elena felt as though someone had struck her a fast hard blow to the heart. "And how did you find out tonight?" She had to know it. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe they'd misunderstood what they'd seen. He'd said he'd do anything to get the information, anything that was needed, anything…

Bonnie took a deep breath. "Elena, you don't need…"

"Yes, I do. Just tell me."

"When Jeremy and I went to the tomb to check on the spell, well, and because I suddenly had this massive intuition that I needed to be there, Elena, this huge almost premonition calling to me, we saw…. Oh, don't make me tell you this. Just suffice it to say…."

"No. Don't suffice it. Tell me." Her voice had steel in it. Elena was shaking, but Bonnie could hear the determination in her tone.

"Okay, but you asked for it, and it's not pretty. Stefan had her up against the wall, and they were going at it like there was no tomorrow. They didn't even know we were there until I sort of… I mean I sort of…"

"You what Bonnie?"

"I just got so mad. I sort of screamed and dropped both of them with that vampire brain explody thing that I do…."

"Oh God, Bonnie. You didn't!"

"I mean, they're not dead or anything because Jeremy dragged me out kicking and flailing and broke my concentration, but let's just say that I think the mood was broken."

Despite herself, Elena felt a surge of vindication. "You really…."

"Witch slapped them. Yes, ma'am. Upside the head. Hard, too. No way is he going to be using my magic to cheat on my best friend and me put up with that. I also walked right in there and took that medallion while he was down before Jeremy dragged me out, so basically his sorry cheating ass is locked up in there with her until I decide otherwise…. Or until you do."

Elena stared up at the popcorn texture of the hotel ceiling. "Thank you, Bonnie," she whispered.

"Yeah. Look. Are you okay down there? I mean, are you going to be…"

"No. Yeah. I'll be fine. We have to get some more information, though, before I can come home to deal with…."

"I understand. You do what you need to do. He's clearly not going anywhere." Bonnie's voice held an edge that boded no good for Stefan.

Elena hung up the phone, tossed it on the bed, stared off into space. Then she stood up and began to pull on jeans, a shirt, a hooded jacket. She walked out of her room leaving the phone behind her, headed for the stairs that would lead her to the beach, her only thoughts those of escape.

III.

Damon entered his room and threw his jacket across the back of a chair. He was in the process of falling onto the bed and turning on the TV when the phone in his pocket buzzed. He sighed and pulled it, expecting any message but the one he got.

**U need 2 ck on E. Right NOW. No answer on her phone. - Bonnie**

He had grabbed his jacket and was out the door again and at hers before the phone was even in his pocket.

"Elena?" He knocked on the French doors quietly. "Elena? Are you there?" He sighed softly and pulled a thin strip of metal from his pocket. He slid it into the old-fashioned tumblers of the lock, jiggled it just a bit, and was satisfied with the quiet snick of it opening. _Because not every situation requires breaking it open…. H_e slipped the lockpick back into his jacket and cautiously opened the door.

Her room was empty, but nothing looked disturbed. The light next to the bed was still on. Damon walked over and looked around the room. In the middle of the bed, her phone buzzed at him. He scooped it up gently, pocketed it while taking his own out. He sat down, dialed a number, had a brief conversation. At some point, he leapt to his feet and began to pace. Anyone watching him would have seen his face go through several stages, becoming a mask of rage, of grief, of worry, and then of complete icy calm. Then he hung up the phone, turned, and began to track her.

IV.

Elena dug her toes into the sand. The night wind was cool but not uncomfortably so. She'd long ago quit crying, and now she just felt empty.

_Empty like that sky. Empty like that ocean. Repeating the same things with no progress…._

Another tear escaped her and she angrily blotted it from her face with the sleeve of her hoodie.

_Should have known that something was off. Should have known. He's been so preoccupied. He's been so… But it was Stefan. STEFAN. And I just assumed that maybe the cravings for blood were back or…or…who knows. Maybe I just didn't want to look at it too closely. There's always something._

She became aware that she was not alone. There was no sound other than the waves and the wind humming along the empty beach, but she felt a presence. She'd been around the supernatural too long not to know the significance of that.

"Go away. If I wanted company, I would have called you. There is a reason I left my phone in my room."

She didn't bother to look around.

She heard soft laughter, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

"Little girl lost and all alone, stranded on the beach, and without her phone? How…nursery rhyme-ish."

She turned quickly to look behind her. There was most definitely something supernatural on the beach with her. The only problem was that it was not Damon.

V.

Elena began to back away slowly, working toward getting to her feet.

"Who are you?" she demanded. She saw the vampire's eyes widen.

"Oh, she says who and not what, and she's not nearly as afraid as she ought to be! How…intriguing. How….charming! This should be lots and lots of fun. I haven't eaten anything this amusing in…well…months…"

The male vamp kept coming slowly toward her. He seemed to be in no particular hurry, enjoying the hunt.

Elena's eyes darted over the beach searching for anything that she might be able to use as a weapon. A few yards away, she saw what seemed to be a sand-covered piece of driftwood. She had no idea when the vampire would get tired of his slow stalk and pounce. She had to keep him talking, try to keep him moving and make a dash for it.

"Oh yes. I know exactly what you are. I know all about vampires."

The vampire laughed. "How delightful! Do tell. What do you know? I can't wait to hear this. Where did you get your information, my dear? _Twilight_? Do we…sparkle?"

He closed distance and grabbed her. He inhaled her scent.

"Maybe just a little taste, and then I'll let you tell me…"

He lapped lightly at her neck, and she felt his teeth graze her, pierce her. She fought, but it was like pulling against steel bands. Tears ran down her cheeks. The vampire took only the tiniest sip and then released her.

"Call it an amuse bouche, dearest. I just couldn't wait. Pardon my impetuosity. Now. Do go on. Tell me all about the vampires…."

_Oh Damon, if ever I needed you to swing down out of the sky like a miracle, this is the time, _she thought. She slapped a hand over the bleeding wound on her neck, and she took another slow step backwards toward what might or might not be wood strong enough to stake a hunting vampire.

VI.

She wasn't hard to find. He could follow the scent of her anywhere. And she really hadn't wandered far. He'd used a little plain psychology. He'd seen her staring out at the ocean earlier, and so that is where he expected to find her now. Nothing new under the sun. No surprises.

What was totally unexpected was to find her under attack by another vampire.

The sight of her being stalked by this interloper had him in full rage instantly, and he was down the beach and between them with the impulse of his thought.

Elena had almost reached the driftwood when Damon appeared between her and the other vampire. She flung herself at the wood, knowing that she needed to arm herself regardless, her heart pounding.

_But this is the truth, I don't know when I have been so grateful to see that particular set of fangs…._

Damon hissed at the hunting vampire. "Private property. One chance only. You'll need to leave. Now."

The other vampire smiled, shook his head. "Uh-uh. I don't think so. I think….it's open season around here, and I think the little lass was fairly begging for it."

Damon took in the blood on Elena's neck and his hand flexed into a fist and relaxed. "Ah, see. Now that's exactly the wrong thing to have said…."

The two collided with each other in a blur, and Elena cried out. She pulled at the rough surface of the driftwood log and finally managed to get a large piece to separate from the whole. She looked up to see the other vampire bite into Damon, rake him sharply with nails made claws. The two struggled furiously, battering and slashing at each other. Damon finally punched the other away from him, and Elena could see the wounds already starting to close as the two combatants turned to face each other again.

At the last moment, Elena yelled to Damon, "Take this!" and threw him the segment of driftwood. Damon snatched it from the air and savagely drove it under the other vampire's ribs, piercing his heart. Elena watched as he twisted it, twisted it again, before flinging the other vampire's corpse away from him. He paced for a moment, rage still in every line of his features, and then he walked over to the body, reached down, tore the makeshift stake out, and punched his hand down through the chest to pluck the heart out like a bloody apple, yelling as he did so. He threw it far out into the night-dark ocean and then fell into a crouch there at the edge of the waves.

"D-Damon?" Elena whispered.

His eyes immediately came back to hers, and she watched him fight for control, watched the killer inside him fight with the man that she trusted.

"Elena," he rasped, "you're…hurt. You're…bleeding…." He stood, walked slowly toward her.

She was shaking, but she didn't move, didn't back away. _I won't be afraid of Damon. I trust him. I trust him…_

"He…he…bit me…"

She saw Damon's eyes darken, heard him hiss.

"Bastard's dead. I killed him for that. I killed him for touching you. I'd kill him again if I could….."

She reached out a hesitant hand as he came to stand just in front of her. She would have touched his cheek, but he grabbed her wrist before she could.

"No."

"What? I don't understand…"

"Your fingers, Elena…look at your hand…." His tone was choked, and his eyes were black.

Her hands were covered in tiny cuts from pulling at the rough surface of the wood, in a coating of blood from pressing at the wound at her neck. She pulled the restraint. "I didn't realize… I didn't mean to…"

He was staring at the blood on her hand as if transfixed, inches away from his mouth as it was, and suddenly she realized that the danger was not over. Perhaps it had only just begun. But while that other danger had been one she would readily flee, this one, well…

His gaze flickered to hers, and he sucked her index finger into his mouth. She felt his fangs scrape against her, and everything inside her went weak. He released her index finger and turned the palm of her hand against his seeking tongue, lapping like a cat after spilled milk. She made a sound, and he pulled her against him.

He licked away the blood on her neck with slow strokes, and although some part of her mind was screaming at her to stop him, that down this path lay madness and destruction, for some reason, she could not make herself push him away. His hands were caressing her body languorously, as if he owned her. It all felt so good…..

"Elena," he murmured. "Oh God. You taste like…I'm not going to be able to stop…"

She felt his mouth close over the wound the other vampire had created, and she felt his teeth poise there delicately, and she cradled his head, murmuring something wordless. She was his. He could have whatever he wanted of her….

Suddenly she was sitting alone on the sand, and Damon was far down the beach, crouched, looking at her like she was something terrifying. She pushed herself up, and he held up his hands as though warding her off.

"I've been noble once tonight. Don't ask me how. And for fuck's sake, don't expect me to be able to pull it off again. Please, Elena," his voice broke. "Please. Go inside and get in the shower. Get cleaned up."

She looked at him another moment, hesitating, thinking, and he snarled, "I said GO. Do you want me to take you? It's a second-by-second fight tonight…."

With tears coming up in her eyes, she stumbled back toward the hotel. Damon lay flat on his back when he was sure she was back inside and stared up into the moonless sky for a moment fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Then he began stripping. When he was naked, he plunged into the warm ocean. He knew there would have to be a conversation and soon, but first, some of this excess rage was going to have to be channeled safely away.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And voila, part three, even? (You see where this is going, right?)

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><p>I.<p>

She hadn't stopped being jumpy since she'd gotten back to her room. The full magnitude of what had happened to her had hit her once she'd started back to the hotel. Since the night had begun, she'd a) been cheated on by her vampire boyfriend, b) been attacked and bitten by some random vampire, and c) had some very questionable vampire blood-sex-lust encounter on the beach with her boyfriend's (ex-boyfriend's) brother.

Yeah. She fucking hated vampires right now.

The hot shower spray coursed over her body, and the soap stung as it touched the wounds in her hands and on her neck, but fortunately, it looked as though she was no longer openly bleeding.

_Which is good. Because that way, when I see Damon again, he has no excuse for being distracted as I kick his ass up around his ears. What the HELL was that?_

She was still shaking. It had been so incredibly intense. One minute she'd been worried about him, watching him fight the demon inside him, that darkness that howled within calling out to him to kill and feed, and then she'd been practically begging him to allow it to feed on her.

_And I am…am…so not…into **that.** _

It was true that she'd fed Stefan her blood on occasion, that she'd known the bite of a vampire before in very controlled situations, but it had never turned her on. Stefan had only ever nipped her finger. It had always been a bit clinical and embarrassing. The one time he'd bitten her wrist because he'd needed so much more blood from her, it was true that she'd felt _something_….

_But I am not like Caroline was. I am not into being bitten. Not. SO not._

So why hadn't she run like hell when she'd realized what Damon was about to do? Why hadn't she slapped his face and made him stop when she'd known that her blood was keying him up, getting him…aroused?

_Stop it. I don't want to think about this anymore. It's been the night from hell. All I want now is to go into my room and not have to deal with vampires of any shape, size, or color._

She switched off the taps, wrapped a towel around her, and got out to make that wish a reality.

II.

He was, of course, sitting on her bed when she opened the bathroom door.

"No. Get out."

Oddly, his hair was wet and his clothes were changed. Had he, too, taken a shower? She'd been in there a long time…

He didn't move, was being extremely still. His eyes were troubled, but they were blue again, all traces of bloodlust gone.

"You know I'm not going anywhere until we talk."

"I think I have the right to ask you to leave."

"Probably you have more than the right to ask it, but the fact remains…." He gestured slightly, was still again. It struck her that this stillness was an attempt not to frighten her.

She knew how hard it was for him to make any effort at all. Damon was driven by impulse. He did whatever came naturally to him. He was not a creature of forethought or long-range plans. He simply decided what he wanted and took it. If his first tactic for taking did not work, he adjusted and tried again until the object he desired rested in his grasp. He was relentless.

_And…he had saved her life tonight….twice…. One of those times by releasing something he desired…._

She shifted uncomfortably, pulled the thick hotel towel more tightly around her, relented.

"Okay. But…"

His eyes were serious, too serious, as he waited for her to put conditions on their conversation. She knew that he was waiting for something dire…

"…I'm not going to do this in a towel, so throw me those pajamas you're sitting on."

Something flickered through his eyes, and a smile that was a ghost of a Damon-smile laced with sass and seduction curved his perfect mouth. "Not going to let me have any fun at all, are you?" He pulled the pile of clothing from beneath him and tossed it to her. He tried not to notice the tiny satiny pair of undergarments that slithered over his hand as he did.

She caught it all awkwardly with one hand, careful to keep her towel from slipping, and shook her head. "No. I think we've all had just about all the fun we can stand for one night. Don't you?" And she went back into the bathroom to change.

His head fell back onto the headboard behind him. The sight of her coming from the shower in nothing more than a hotel bath towel provoked him. Her scent, warm and fresh from the shower, assailed him. Her blood sang in his veins, more intoxicating that any alcohol he could try to replace it with. The nearness of her seemed to demand that he touch her, kiss her, taste her again…. He closed his eyes.

"Honey, you don't know the half of it."

III.

Dressed, she opened the door uncertainly and looked at him. She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She had a bandage on her neck. She stood twisting her fingers together a little uncertainly. He had not moved except to rest his head against the high wooden hotel headboard behind him. If it had not been Damon, she might have thought him asleep.

"I'd tell you that I don't bite, but, _well_…." He opened his eyes and looked at her with sarcastic and self-deprecating humor in his eyes.

_Going to have to deal with this part first. He's feeling guilty. Imagine that. Damon Salvatore, guilty._

She sighed and edged toward the bed. Any other night, and she would have piled in with him, leaned on him, let him put his arm around her. They had always been friends if nothing else.

_And now….now they were becoming…_

She cut that thought off before it could go any farther. She was going to fix this. She was not going to…lose him, too.

He saw the determination in her eyes, and saw her square her shoulders. She came around to her side of the bed and sat down. He turned his head and considered her.

"Awfully brave, that."

"Not really."

His smile was a dangerous Damon smile, wide eyes and challenge accepted. "Are you sure? I mean, hadn't you better be? Because at this distance, Elena, you haven't got a prayer…" And just like that, he had her rolled under him.

"Damon…" Her voice was calm, but it took effort to keep it that way.

"Mmm….Because right now, there's absolutely no one who can protect you. There's no one who can keep me from taking what I want…." He purred as he nuzzled her neck, but Elena noticed that he was careful to stay away from the bandaged shoulder, careful to kiss only unbroken skin. He continued to look directly into her eyes. _He's trying to scare me. _

She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Except you, Damon. Except you."

She was lying alone on the bed, and he was sitting on its edge facing the door. "I'll give you this. You know how to play dirty."

She sat up. "I learned from the best."

He looked back over his shoulder at her, gave her a brief, bitter smile, touched his forehead in salute. "Touché, my dear. Touché." Then he turned around on the bed to face her and crossed his long legs. "Enough." He reached out and gently took her hand in his. He gently stroked the fingers, and she knew somehow that the previous events of this impossibly long night were going through his mind as he ran his fingertips over the tiny wounds there.

"I am…Elena, I…." He stopped, frustration furrowing his brow. Words were not his gift. He was a man of action. "When I…When you...I should have never… but I wish I could make you understand how…" His eyes were full of torment when he looked up at her, and his hand clutched at hers. "I would not have hurt you …or frightened you…or had you see that side of me…for anything in the world. I hope you know that. I…am…sorry…for tonight…"

She squeezed his hand gently. "Apology accepted. And thank you for saving my life. Again. Let's call it even for now, okay?"

They looked at each other for long moments, and he rolled his eyes muttering something obscene under his breath. She leaned forward and drew him into the embrace that she would have given him previously at any time, the embrace of her friend. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the uninjured curve of her neck briefly before he could stop himself, a little indulgence, and the great relief he felt was almost making him lightheaded. Somehow, they had survived the crisis.

IV.

He held her while she slept. She hadn't asked him to leave, and it was so precious a gift that he hadn't been about to pretend to be noble and throw it away himself. They had talked a little more, but exhaustion had been creeping up on her after everything else, and he'd watched her eyelids drooping more and more until she'd finally been laying on him in half-slumber. When he'd moved to slide away from her, she'd clutched at his shirt and murmured in irritation, so he'd taken that as an invitation to stay. He cradled her head on his shoulder, from time to time delicately brushed a fingertip against her cheek or forehead, studied every minute detail of her profile. At some point, he simply wrapped his arms around her and dozed off himself.

The buzzing of his cellphone in his hip pocket woke him. He fished it out and answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Well, did you find her? I've been going crazy all night! I've been getting these hella weird vibes, Damon. What happened to Elena?"

"Oh, I've got her. In fact, she's right here with me right now." He lightly drew his fingers down Elena's side, something he knew would make her make a noise, and he held the phone close enough for Bonnie to catch it.

"She's with you…right now? Oh. OH. As in right now?" Bonnie's voice went up to a little squeak. Then, "Damon! Why did I see her with blood all over her last night?" Damon grinned, savagely glad the little witch was too far away to make his brain burst.

"I guess that would be for me to know and yoouu to find out, now wouldn't it? Bye, precious."

"Damon Salvatore! If you've hurt her, I will personally destroy you! I'll…"

"Such threats! Check your little voyeur-vision again. I promise you, I didn't do anything she didn't enjoy. Better be careful, though, Bonnie. After all, you might like watching it, too, and then where would you be…"

The witch dissolved into incoherent shrieks, and Damon chuckled darkly, disconnecting the call, pocketing the phone again. Then he looked back down at Elena. She was still sleeping. He sighed. Cheap thrills were still thrills. He closed his eyes and was almost asleep again when he heard her say it again.

V.

"Damon."

_Oh yes._

He was instantly awake. His eyes focused on the lovely face so close to his own. Her lips were parted from saying his name, and her head moved slightly on his shoulder.

_Oh, darling, dream, dream of me…. But, after everything that happened tonight, is it a good dream? It seems so unlikely that it could be..._

And then she arched her body sinuously against his with a sigh, burying her face in his neck.

"Damon," she breathed.

_No way is that not a good dream._

He closed his eyes at the contact of her body against his, shivered as she slipped one of her legs over his, as he felt her lips brush across his throat. Instinct had his hands coming up to curve over her derriere, gently molding and caressing, and she purred against him, wiggling to get even more contact. One hand strayed down his chest, lightly brushed his crotch….

_In fact, I highly approve of this dream. This is the best damn dream ever._

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Damon felt two different sides of himself warring together. There was the side that knew that Elena was asleep and that he should leave her alone. This side of him believed very strongly that he should get up gently and walk away despite the fact that she was clearly displaying feelings she had not or would not openly acknowledge in the waking world. Then there was the other side. That side also knew that Elena was asleep, but it had some very definite ideas about how she should be awakened. Most of them involved bending her legs over his shoulders for better penetration. As far as that side of him was concerned, she had made her choice even if she wasn't ready to admit it to herself, and it was sick and tired of both of them having to wait to enjoy the results.

He rested his forehead against hers in frustration as she continued to entice him with her dream-demands.

VI.

Elena was dreaming. In her dream, her lover had returned. He was stronger now, almost like a dark god who consumed her, and she tumbled with him, gloried in his power. She called out to him, and he took her. His hunger for her was relentless. He did things to her she had never even had the courage to dream of….

He had watched her in the darkness, seduced her with feather-satin touches, and the tenderest of kisses. He loved her enough to give her away, not to lie and give pretty words and then stray with another. Now, though, she wanted more. She needed him in full, wanted him to erase all her hurt, all the betrayal of that false love she had once had. She called out to him...

Where was he? She would have him. She would claim him as he had claimed her. She opened her eyes to look for him…

VII.

And there he was. There were those hot blue eyes she'd been longing for. There was that mouth she craved, that she wanted devouring hers. She sighed.

Damon opened his eyes at the sound. "Elena," he choked out. There was a question and an apology in it. Oh surely he was in trouble now.

She ran her fingers through his hair, sighed again, and pulled him down into the kiss.

Damon gave in. He let himself be seduced. He took the perfect lips that were offered to him. He couldn't stop himself if he tried.

_Need this. Want this. Going to have it…NOW._

He rolled her beneath him, felt her legs part to accommodate the weight of him settling there against her, was already pulling the tank top of her pajamas up and off her before his brain kicked in again at all.

_You can't do this. Not this way. Not with her. She's not a quick fuck in a side alley, a one-night drink-and-toss. _

He slapped the voice away, pulled back to look at his prize. She arched slightly as he ran a hand down her torso, back up, cupped one of her perfect breasts.

_Knew she'd be like this, knew she'd be, knew it… Have to taste her again, have to…_

He bent his head took the peak of her breast deep into his mouth, and she writhed and mewled, her hands clutching at his shoulders, at the sheets, as he suckled with slow, deep pulls.

"Yes, oh God, Damon, yes…"

The voice was back with a vengeance. _If she's still in a dream, then do you have the right to intrude? _

_I have the right to make her fantasies come true if they're about me, don't I?_

_You're going to destroy everything if this is like the kiss in the car. _

_But this…this is…and she's wrapped around me wet and wanting…I can smell her wanting…and she wants **me**…._

_Then wake her up and give her the option. You can't be this. You can't do this. Not to her. Not and survive it._

Shaking, laughing, he rolled away and was suddenly standing at the door to the room. She moaned in confusion at the loss of his body, at the loss of his kisses. She lay sprawled in a lusciously abandoned curl, her breasts still gleaming with the moisture of his mouth as she looked at him with awakening eyes. He ran his hands over his face as he fought the urge to simply say, "What the hell?" and go back to the bed to finish what his body was demanding. He reached behind him for the doorknob and with a most uncharacteristic loss of grace fumbled it open.

"Twice in one goddamn night. Twice in one GODDAMN night. And with the same woman. I am losing my fucking mind."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: M. Very. Here there be pie. You have been warned. If you don't like that, suffice it to say, "RARR," and click to the next chapter (in which there may or may not be more pie)._

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><p>I.<p>

About the time she heard the door slam to the room next door, Elena became aware of what had actually occurred. Her body was still aching with need, still sensitized from the touches and kisses of not a dream lover, but a lover who had been in her bed for real.

_And who ran away? Damon Salvatore? _

She sat up and pulled her pajama top back on.

She pulled her knees up against her chest and she thought about what had happened. She knew she'd been dreaming. Apparently, Damon had stayed with her as she'd slept. Well, that wasn't a first, so no big surprise there. She'd apparently begun to turn her dream into a reality…. And he'd turned her down?

She heard the sound of breaking glass coming through the wall, and she shook her head.

She frowned, began to worry the vervain charm on its chain around her neck back and forth. This wasn't new, was it? She'd been dreaming about him for awhile now, ever since he'd told her he loved her. Maybe even before then, if she were going to be truly honest.

But then there had been that kiss in the car.

_But we swept that under the rug._

And then Stefan….Stefan….

_Then Stefan threw you away…._

She suddenly dropped the silver charm. No. It was time for everybody to stop lying, wasn't it? For everybody to come clean. She'd start by being honest with herself for a change about what and who she wanted, perhaps. Everybody else did exactly what they wanted to, didn't they? Let the pieces fall where they will?

Another sound of something being broken next door, something larger, heavier, maybe furniture.

_And that's not the way he needs to be exorcising that particular demon, is it?_

She stood and took the spare keycard to the room next door, quietly opened her door, and with two short steps covered the distance to her heart's desire.

II.

The door swung open to reveal a mostly naked Damon sprawled on the bed, half-empty bottle of scotch next to him, TV on. His shirt was hanging off the back of a chair, his shoes were gone. His pants were off, and only his underwear remained on. He looked up at her and sneered.

"And you can just get right back over to Happiness House again. Enough, I think, can safely said to be fucking enough." He took a huge swallow of the amber liquid from the hotel room glass he had in his hand.

She stepped in and allowed the door to close behind her but said nothing.

"I know you heard me, little girl," he growled, and his tone was feral.

She still didn't move, didn't speak. He glanced up at her, back down to the glass, drank off the rest of the beverage there in one huge motion, threw it across the room to shatter in the corner with others that had already gone the same route, and he was standing in front of her instantly, crowding her.

"What's the matter? Had another _bad_ dream you want me to take care of for you?" His tone twisted the word, made it lurid, obscene. She noticed that he was very carefully not touching her.

She looked directly into his eyes, leaned forward. "And if I said yes?"

His expression changed instantly, and she saw confusion, suspicion, hope, raw burning lust, all in equal measures race behind those azure eyes before he dropped the mask of the cynic over them, finding safety in his persona.

He circled her, walking so closely to her that his bare shoulder and chest brushed her exposed shoulder, the skin-to-skin contact making her shiver. He paused behind her, and before she could react, he had pulled her against him, one arm around her waist, one hand snaking up to wrap gently around her throat, holding her to him. She could feel his arousal pressed against her from behind, and her eyes fluttered closed.

"I'd have to say I'm in no mood for whatever new game this is you have going and tell you that this is the last time I'll tell you to get out, Elena. Do you understand me?" He nuzzled her ear, and she felt him gently bite the lobe.

She tried to turn in his arms, but he tightened his grip, refusing to allow her to move. She reached down and took the hand at her waist, linked her fingers through his, and tugged. For a moment, he was totally immobile. It was like pulling at a flexible statue. Then he relented, and allowed her to slowly, slowly pull his hand with hers. She skimmed their joined hands under her tank top, and she heard his breathing quicken. She used her own fingers to place his over the breast that was still peaked for his touch, and she felt more than heard the low sound of desire that he made. His hips shifted against her.

She turned her head to look him directly in the eye. "No. Do you understand me?"

The hand around her throat tightened ever-so-slightly. His head tilted slightly, his eyes focused on her mouth. The hand on her breast rolled the sensitive peak hard. "I'm not Stefan. I won't walk away this time. I'll bend you over every surface in this room. Twice."

She shuddered. "Promises, promises," she managed, and she closed the gap between them.

III.

The touch of her lips on his was a signal of some kind, set free some sort of restraint in him, and he was suddenly wild. His hands stripped her, ripped away the last of his own clothing, and he pushed her back against the door of the hotel room, lifted her up a little, brought her down to impale her on his ready erection. She was wet and aching for him. Both of them cried out as their bodies finally joined. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched back as her body adjusted to the sheer size of him. _Oh no…oh NO…he's definitely not Stefan…_. He bent to suckle her beautiful breasts, and he gripped her hips firmly. Then he was moving.

_Oh God…the pleasure…._

Her nails clawed at his back and he laughed as she dug little bloody furrows with each thrust. They were already healing by the time he drove her to do it again.

_Wicked little cat. Go ahead. I can take it. _

He kissed her, teasing strokes of his tongue against her own, sucking her tongue into the heat of his own mouth, and drinking in every sound of pleasure he could wring from her. He slipped one clever, wicked hand between them and began to rub the slick bundle of nerves between her legs between his thumb and forefinger. Elena came instantly, knocked out of herself.

He moved her to the bed, laid her down, bent one leg over his arm, continued to thrust hard, deep, reached down to resume his caresses. As if she'd been hit with a bolt of lightning, she was flung over the edge, her body tightening around the massive length still thrusting in and out of her, still pleasuring her with no signs of slowing.

_He…he…hasn't…hasn't…come. Not once. He hasn't…._

He was rolling them over so she was astride him, thrusting upward into her with long strokes. His hands were playing with her breasts, and he was watching her body rise and fall, encasing his gleaming erection. Damon's eyes were a blue so hot they burned. She ran her hands over his chest, playing with his nipples and those eyes flickered closed, reopened as if he could not stand to miss a minute of what he was seeing.

_Waited so long…so long for this…going to make it last…going to make it good…_

He put his hands on her hips, and groaned, "Ride me hard, Elena." At first she did not understand, but he rocked her hips with his hands to show her the motion that he needed, and she braced her hands on his chest. His fingers snaked up and hooked the ponytail holder, releasing her hair to fall around them both. He groaned at the visual and the sensation of the dark silk falling everywhere, and then he was lost in the feeling of her hips, her body rocking him. He cupped her breasts, teased them to watch her face, to feel it in the tremors of her body. He slipped his finger between her thighs, ground it against her as she rode him, determined to make her come again before she undid him.

He sat up as he felt the end of his own endurance coming. Her hips were rocking hard and he counterthrust against her, deliberately shattering her rhythm to make it last just a little longer. She cried out with every savage thrust he gave, with every stroke and twitch of his fingers between her thighs. He held her to him, kissing his way down her neck.

_What I want and what I need… _

He felt the fangs descend, trailed them lightly over her neck, nipped, licked to take away the sting….

_To drink from her when we come together, that would be ecstasy beyond all others…just a tiny sip…just a taste…_

He licked her neck again, kissed her open-mouthed there where the pulse flowed so enticingly, and she moaned for him, cried out for him as her hips jerked in the beginnings of her throes.

He felt his own orgasm rising, and he turned his head with a cry, laid his head on her shoulder.

_No. Not…not going to do that to her. Not ever without her consent. No…._

And any other thought he might have had was blanked out by ecstasy.

IV.

He was as good as his word. He had her on top of the dresser. He pushed her over the little dining table, spread her legs, and he took her fast, hand fisting and twisting in her hair, pulling her head back, arching her body upwards as he came. He sat down in one of the big wing chairs, she draped her legs over the arms, and they fucked for hours like that, rocking until one or the other came (usually her), and then playing, touching, and talking until they were ready to go again.

He pulled her over to the bed, to the edge, pushed her down flat, knelt at her feet. She moaned when she felt him kiss her knee, her thigh.

"Damon…what are you? I can't…I don't have anything left in me…"

He traced the tip of his tongue over the seam of her swollen lips below, laughed as her hips bucked.

"I am sure you'll rise to the occasion, love…"

He pushed her legs wider apart, flicked his tongue against her lightly, testingly, listened to her gasp for air. He ran his fingers through her slick tissues slowly, slid first one, then another deep inside her.

"Ah, God, what are you doing to me?"

"Not God, not even by a long shot," he teased, his voice wicked, and he caught her eye as he lowered his head, "but you can feel free to call me that if you want in the next little while as the mood moves you. I'm guessing it will be probably quite a lot."

V.

They were in the shower, and he was gentle with her now because although he could have continued to love her, he knew her body had limits. The soap has washed away the lingering scent of her and him together…_more's the pity…would that she smelled like us fucking all the time…_ and they are holding each other, quiet with each other, in that place where words are no longer needed.

"Damon," she murmurs, turning to face him under the hot spray. He hears a question in her voice and he widens his eyes at her and grin, kisses her.

"Yes, princess?" _Because usually the questions after are not good._

She looks at him a moment, and then she shakes her head. She wraps her arms around him. He is puzzled. There was something, something she was going to say, but she had put it away. He simply holds her again, and they finish their shower and go to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Just a little more to go, folks. Hope you're still with it.

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><p>I.<p>

Elena got up the next morning quietly and went back to her room. She got dressed, gathered her phone, and went out to the beach. The day was a grey one, overcast and prone to rain. The sun of yesterday was gone. She looked at the spot down the beach where so much changed for her. The tide had come in and either it or Damon had cleaned up whatever evidence of last night's struggle might have remained. Only the piece of driftwood remained, its jagged outline stabbing upward into the morning sky.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, sighed, and looked at the message count. 10 new messages, all from Bonnie.

_And here we go…._

The phone didn't even ring.

"And just _who_ the hell have _you _been doing?"

II.

Damon was awake before she left his room. Damon was awake before she finished leaving his bed. He'd fought the urge to grab her, roll her under him, and begin again what had been so wonderful the night before.

_No. If she's leaving me quietly in the cold, still light of morning, then I need to let her go._

He watched the woman he loved more than anything gather her clothing from the various places it had been thrown, reflected on the process that had resulted in it getting thrown there, and smiled to himself.

_At least for now. She gets to go…for now. But she'll be coming back to me. Whether she knows it yet or not. Because be straight up damned if I'm going to have her once and let her go._

III.

"So what? You're telling me you had some kind of Spring Break moment down there with Damon? You did one too many shots of something and he got lucky? You have to be telling me that this is what happened, Elena, because you and I both know what Damon is…"

Elena grimaced. She could have predicted Bonnie's reaction right down to the last words.

"No, Bonnie. What is he? The guy who kept me from getting killed by Elijah? Or the guy who kept me from getting killed by that no-name sleezeball vamp who bit me last night? Or, oh, I know, the guy who loves me and not my cheating-ass ex-boyfriend vamp who screws at the drop of a hat?"

"Yeah, I know he has done some things that seem good, and he's come through in the pinch several times but that doesn't balance out things like… Wait, what now? He loves you…"

Elena had not meant to share that secret. She never had. She'd kept it even from Bonnie both because it was precious to her and because she knew that if Damon ever heard it from anyone and realized that he had not been able to make her forget it, most especially Bonnie, he would probably come completely unglued….

"Just forget I said that, okay?"

"No. I don't think so. What, he's writing you poetry and giving you roses? He's the ultimate schemer. He'd probably have said anything to have gotten you in the sack. You know how he is…"

"Really. Really. This is not that kind of thing."

"Aaand I don't have to tell you that words said in duress or orgasm are not legally binding contracts…"

"Bonnie," Elena hissed, "Let. This. Go."

"I. Can't. You call me up telling me you're sleeping with my own personal version of the anti-Christ, and I'm supposed to turn cartwheels. Well, honey, unless you make with some evidence to the contrary, I'm going to feel free to hold my own personal opinion."

Elena could just see the slender witch standing in her own living room, arms crossed, stubborn and judgmental expression firmly in place.

"Okay. Fine. Do you remember that time when I got kidnapped…."

IV.

She wasn't in her room. He peered around the door curiously, and then stopped to ponder.

_Hmm…. Now. She could be avoiding me. Or…._

The curtain on the French doors was pulled back slightly. Her jacket was gone.

_Really? Again?_

He sighed and headed out to the beach. It was when he opened the door that he heard her voice, bell clear. He couldn't hear the other half of the conversation until he got a little closer.

V.

"So he told you he loves you but he thinks you don't remember."

"Right."

"And you two, so far, have made out in his car…"

"Um…yeah…"

"Had that really icky moment with the blood on the beach…What the hell are you thinking by the way?"

"It wasn't exactly on purpose you know. And you weren't there. I wouldn't use the word "ick." And that it shows how much he cares or he would have just …well…you know…"

"Oh yeah. I do know…."

"Anyway…"

"And then last night, you two…."

"We've already been all through that…."

"Yeah, and I'll probably be sick for days. So from all this your grand conclusion about him is what?"

Elena was quiet a moment. She was drawing idle patterns in the damp sand with her index finger.

"Come on, Elena. Don't keep us _all_ in suspense here."

The voice from behind her was laced with sardonic amusement, and it made her freeze.

Bonnie's voice came through the phone into her ear. "The spirits are telling me you're going to have to go…"

"Amazing how perceptive you're getting with that. Think so. Yeah."

"Tell him if he hurts you, WHAM."

Damon reached down and slipped the phone from her nerveless fingers, lifted it to his ear.

"Bye-bye, Bonnie. No. I'll take very good care of Elena. No worries. Uh-huh. You know what good….taste…I have in these things…." He laughed with deliberate malice and hung up the phone, handed it back to Elena, sat down on the sand with her.

Elena was eyeing him oddly.

"What? Oh. That. Yeah. Well, she's terribly easy to wind up, and I can't be good all the time. I mean, come on…" He grinned wickedly, reached for her hand. He pulled it to his lips, kissed it gently, chastely. Then he turned it over and nuzzled the pulsepoint there while watching her reaction. "Well, mostly that's what I meant, anyway. Why? Are you worried, my dear, maybe a little bit…afraid?"

"Of you? Please."

His hand tightened on hers. "That's not what I hear."

"How long were you back there?"

"Long enough."

"Ah. Guess we're about to have our first fight?"

"Bingo, precious. Guess Bonnie isn't the only one with preternatural perception this morning…."

VI.

"How long, Elena? How long would you have let me go on without telling me that you knew? Especially after last night?"

He'd released her hand and was standing, staring down at her with hurt and anger in his eyes, something scared and something betrayed there.

It was more than she could stand.

"What? You're pissed at me for this? When you told me you loved me and you took it back by trying to erase my memory? You do NOT get to be righteous about this." She stabbed her finger into his chest for emphasis.

"It was for your own good, damn it. Did you want to go around knowing how I felt? I thought I was doing you a favor. I had to say it, but you didn't have to live with it. That was all. I didn't want it to twist you up like it was doing to me." His expression changed, grew bitter. "But maybe I have the wrong idea about that. Maybe that's the part you enjoyed after all. Maybe you got a kick out of watching me burn."

"I'm sorry. Did you hit your head last night when you were fighting that vamp? Because you're making no fucking sense this morning…."

"No. Maybe I am at last. Oh, maybe all is finally revealed! You've been pulling me in and pushing me away for so long now, and it never made any sense, but now I get it…. You've known all along, and you just like to watch me twist. Kiss me in the car, pretend it was a dream, make me feel all guilty for wanting you, then suck me back in again, make me the one who's hurting. Damn, you're good. I'll go so far as to say you might even be better than Katherine…"

She slapped him hard enough to turn his head, and her other hand was coming right behind. He took the first one, but he caught her other hand and stopped it stone still. She struggled against him, tears running uselessly down her cheeks. He snarled, pulled her close.

In her pocket, her phone began ringing, ringing….

"Let me go, Damon," she said, her voice low, controlled. "Just…just…let me go."

Deliberately, he opened his hands, releasing her, and she spun away from him, walked away down the beach. He watched her walk back up the stairs to the hotel's terrace and disappear. She did not look back.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: The final chapter of the story. I hope you're still hanging in there. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you have, please R&R. It makes my little heart warm.

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><p>I.<p>

Same club, same music, same booze. Exponentially more of it tonight than the night before. Different faces, different costumes, but basically, same women. Same back booth, same feeling of frustration and boredom. But tonight, he'd be damned if he was leaving.

_Where is there to go?_

Elena had disappeared from the hotel rooms. Here things were still there, but he had not seen her since she had walked away from the beach that morning. He had waited around for hours to talk to her, to try to fix what had become so broken, but she had not returned.

And then he'd just gotten angrier. And then he'd fallen into despair.

Damon ordered another round, made space for another girl to squeeze herself in. He'd been much less careful with his revelry tonight, and the marks he'd left on one girl were barely covered by her dress's low neckline. He'd already had more than he needed. His hunger was satisfied. There was something else in him, though, that might never be again, something that was decidedly broken, and that was the thing that had him lick-kissing his way up the neck of this sloe-eyed blonde even while he was finding fault with every way that she wasn't…

_Damn you to all the hells there may be…stop thinking of her…_

And he bit into the only thing that would stop the thoughts for even a second.

II.

There was a moment, a palpable moment, in the club's atmosphere when everything shifted. It indicated someone or something interesting had entered the playing field. Damon could sense all the predators and prey realigning, taking notice, re-ranking themselves. As the current alpha predator in the room, he felt all the strings of hierarchy tugging, and even as half-intoxicated and jaded as he was, he decided to see what new plaything had made its way into his little demesne for the night.

He couldn't quite see the dance floor from where he was, a reason he'd taken the booth in the first place, its extreme privacy. _A dark place for dark deeds, _he smirked to himself. Just now, though, it was a real pain in the ass. He kissed one of his party partners who fussed as he disentangled himself and made some excuse about heading over to the bar. The ripples he was getting were getting stronger. _Hmm….Could there possibly be something of interest tonight? God knew it would be welcome. Any sort of challenge would be wel…_

He finally saw the dance floor, and he felt his fangs sharpen.

_Fuck. Of course. Who else could make that kind of stir in my universe?_

Elena Gilbert was in the middle of the dance floor with a partner who looked remarkably like a Norse god but with no shortage of potential replacements if he should fail to live up to her expectations. She was in a lipstick red dress Damon had never seen before, in heels so high and fragile looking he was surprised she could stay in them.

_Oh, but she can… Oh, but she does…. Look at her go._

He ran appreciative eyes over her as her partner, whom he decided to call Thor, swung her around, pressed her illicitly close. Elena allowed it, but there was a look of distant amusement on her face that was somehow more erotic than any come-hither look he'd ever seen. Thor seemed to think so, too, based on the way his hand inched down to cup her backside.

She shimmied away from him with a little warning glance, and they resumed a distance for the dance that one might have slid, oh, perhaps an index card into. Damon wanted to kill him. Or her. Or both. He wasn't feeling particularly choosy.

He stalked around the edges of the floor, watching her. He could catch the scent of her, and he felt savagely hungry again, just as if he hadn't fed at all.

_Maybe it's not savagely hungry. Maybe it's just savage, _he reflected as Thor's hands went wandering again.

He turned with a curse and headed back to his table. _Time for another round, I think…._

III.

He was contemplating the hollow at the base of a brunette's neck, cursing her mentally for smelling _wrong_, and allowing his rage to take him to places he had not been in ages when he heard the voice behind him.

"So sorry, ladies. This is last call for you. Time to go. Everybody out of the pool."

He froze, then smiled, stroked the brunette underneath the table in a way sure to elicit a moan, and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was Elena composed, regal, as if nothing could ever shock her, not even the sight of him with four women, one of whom he was currently…_well_…

_My, my. Hasn't she been hanging around with us too long?_ Something sad and dark flickered through the alcohol, the blood, and the pain to touch his heart.

One of the women, the blonde, poutily looked from Elena to Damon and said, "Who are you? The little missus?" She tried to make it a joke, but it didn't quite come off.

Elena took a step toward the booth and laid her hands on the high back. She leaned in and said simply, firmly, "Yes. Now. Get. Out."

Damon said nothing, and the other women gathered their belongings and with varying degrees of grace and sobriety scrambled out of the booth, muttering as they went. By the time they had reached the door, they no longer remembered anything about Damon or their encounter.

Elena slid into the circular booth at one end. A member of the club's staff appeared and cleared the table. She spoke softly and a glass of something was brought to her. Neither she or Damon spoke during this brief interlude. He merely sipped scotch from his glass slowly, studying her over the rim with a dangerous little smile.

When they were again alone, he sat the glass down on the table and tilted his head.

"Hello, princess. Have any trouble finding me?"

"Damon. No. None at all. I knew you'd be where the best was to be had."

He laughed at that outright, a brief appreciative bark at her understanding of his nature.

"Need something, did you?"

"I could ask the same of you." She gestured vaguely to the club, the booth.

His predatory smile came back, and his eyes glittered. He slid slightly on the bench, just enough so she was in arm's reach. "If I did…you rather deprived me of that, didn't you, now?"

Her smile was slow, calm, mysterious. "Perhaps." She raised her drink, sipped it slowly, lowered it to the table, considered him again with steady eyes.

"Didn't it occur to you that might be…dangerous?"

"How so?"

He had her pulled next to him faster than she could believe, had one hand pinned to the high back of the booth next to her head. She'd known that he probably intended to do it, had known when she'd followed him off the dance floor that this was always a possibility, but it was still breathtaking.

His voice was a low growl directly into her ear. "Didn't it occur to you that when you ran off my little delights that you might become their…replacement?"

She turned and captured his face in her hand. "Didn't it occur to you that perhaps the 'replacement' is what you wanted all along?" And she gave his face a little sharp provocative shove, her eyes full of that bright brave fire he loved. He saw no fear in them, and that knowledge somehow just incited him further.

He turned immediately back to her, eyes glittering and going dark. He leaned close. "Oh, don't provoke me, Elena. You really don't want to push my buttons just now and just here. You see, this isn't a cotillion or your front parlor. You're in the middle of my party booth, and I'm still hungry. We've already fucked. I know what you taste like. If you yank my chain one more time, I'm going to make you my main course tonight and finally get the particular monkey that is you off my back."

She tilted her head to the side to show him her already-bitten neck. His eyes were drawn to the wound there as though magnetized.

"Talk, talk, talk. Is that all you Salvatores can _ever _do?"

He was on her then, had her in his arms, one hand cradling her head, tilting her for the taking, his arm around her like a lover's embrace, and he laved her neck in long slow stroke of his tongue. She rolled her head back, and as he prepared to bite, he was struck by two sudden realizations.

First, she wore no vervain around her neck. The charm that she wore as naturally as breathing, the charm that had burned little marks on him that had healed instantly as they'd loved last night because neither had paused to remove it, was not on her neck.

Second, she lay trustingly in his arms. She was giving herself to him. Not only that, but she had instigated this, gone so far as to provoke it.

_What fresh hell was this?_

He gently, gently sat her back upright on the seat and pulled away from her, the bloodlust dissipating as confusion set in.

IV.

Elena looked at him steadily with no fear and with no sign of alarm or regret.

"What is this, Elena? Why are you here? What are you doing?"

"This is me trying to show you something."

He gestured for her to continue.

"I am here with you not because I am trying to manipulate you or con you. I have no tricks up my sleeve." She laughed a little, softly, humorlessly. "No sleeves even."

He was acutely aware of the cut of her dress, and he ran his gaze over its lack once again before turning impatient eyes back to hers.

"I came with no vervain. Not even my locket…"

"That's so foolish! What if you'd run into another vampire between the hotel and here..."

She kept talking. "…because that is what started the problem in the first place. I decided that you could do what you wanted to do. It would be up to you. If you decide to…you can take away my knowledge of everything that has happened here in the last two days. You can take away my knowledge of last night. You can take away my knowing of your telling me that you love me. You can even drink from me tonight and take that, too. I give you all this, Damon. I put it all in your hands."

His hands shook slightly as he reached for the glass on the table. "Why are you telling me all this? Why would you put yourself in this place like this?"

She covered his hands with hers, forced him to put down the glass, made him look at her. "Because I trust you. Because I am not toying with you. Because. Because you are always there for me. You protect me. You think of me first, even when it hurts you." She sighed deeply. "Because I love you, Damon."

He sat as though stunned.

She waited a moment, then smiled a small, sad smile. "I'll only make one request, then. When you make me forget, please take that last bit of mine, too. It would be horrible to remember that I told you that and you didn't return it anymore. I guess I know what it feels like now…."

She looked down at the table, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt a gentle hand cup her cheek, a thumb wipe away the falling tears.

"Shhh," Damon said, as he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her softly, sweetly, and when she looked up at him, she saw that face she'd seen so rarely, the face completely devoid of humor, sarcasm, or defense. "Neither of us will be doing any forgetting anymore. Instead, let's try to make things worth remembering."

She smiled through her tears, "Okay. Deal."

They kissed as the club pulsed around them, oblivious to everything else that existed.

Sometime later, he broke the kiss and sighed.

"Let's get out of here," he purred. "I have a few notions regarding you, me, and some furniture that have been sadly parted far too long."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "That furniture will be there when we get back. This bit however…."

He looked at her in surprise. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

"You think I didn't see you back here with your coterie?"

He didn't even attempt to look abashed. "And?"

"You said earlier you'd make me a replacement."

His eyes kindled, and he looked at her as if sizing her up.

"Oh my darling, you could never be a replacement." He took her hand and pulled her into his arms slowly. "You are always, only, and ever the master copy." He cradled her head once again, stroked her neck, kissed her deeply.

"Are you sure about this? I know that you and Stefan, I know he drank from you, but…"

"No. Never like this. He never thought he could…He always told me he'd…"

Damon made a tiny face, shook his head. "Silly Stefan. No. Bunnies and squirrels will cause all kinds of problems if that's all you eat."

She laughed, ran her fingers over the familiar planes of his face. She could feel no fear with him. This was just what came next. She trusted him utterly. "So no worries, huh?"

He leaned down and kissed her neck. She drew in a breath. It felt good. He smiled. "Mmm.. No. No worries. Remember which brother you've got. I'm actually _good_ at all this." And she felt his teeth slip into her.

She arched into the bite. The tiny flicker of pain was gone instantly, and all that was left was bliss radiating from his kiss. Each time he drew on her neck, she felt it. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, heard and felt him making an answering sound low in his throat as her blood slid into him. It seemed to go on forever, but she knew in actuality, it was moments only, and then he was raising his head, licking the wound gently, applying pressure, as he cradled her to his shoulder.

He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and she sat back to look at him. She felt totally boneless, like she'd been wrung out and hung up to dry.

"That was…" _There just aren't words. Forget it. I'm not even going to try._

A little tiny smug smile appeared. "Told you so."

She would have smacked him, but she couldn't summon up the energy. "Holy crap, Damon. What did you do?"

He leaned back against the wall of the booth, draped her across him, rubbing his hands down her back gently. He waved his free hand vaguely. "I don't know how to describe it. Booyah?"

She laughed. She couldn't stop.

He smiled down at her. _Oh, to be this happy. It was dangerous. It had to be. He hadn't been this happy…ever? Could they be happy now? Was this the time when he finally had someone who was his?_

She looked up at him. "Did…did it feel that way for you, too?" _Or was I just another Happy Meal?_

He kissed her. He heard the question she didn't ask.

"Do you know what it's like to be a vampire in love, Elena?"

So gave him a long level look. "Oh yes. Obviously. Years and years of experience."

He grinned, continued as though she hadn't spoken. "Everything we feel is made more extreme. When we hurt, it is exaggerated. The pain is more intense. But when we love…." He gestured with his hand. "Everything about the beloved is enticing…the sight of her, the scent of her, the sound of her voice…. but nothing is as intoxicating as the possibility or the actuality of the taste of her blood…."

He gazed softly down into her eyes, ran his thumb gently over the bite mark on her neck. "Being creatures who are created by blood and who live on it, perhaps you can understand how it is our ultimate obsession…."

Her mind whirled. _So there was Stefan who I gave the most heady substance imaginable to unknowingly and then who was stealthily taking it from me in the name of "becoming more human" without telling me this. Then there was Damon on the beach who was tempted beyond all measure and turned away. And then there is tonight when it was freely offered and freely received. There was Stefan who never had control, who struggled every night we were together and would have, one night, drunk me down like a favorite vintage of wine. And then there is Damon who is so controlled that he gives me pleasure like no other as an act of love with the very same thing I had to fear in his brother. And he's the one everyone calls reckless and savage…._

He let her mind walk whatever paths it would. He didn't have to be a mindreader to know where it was going. He knew there would always be moments when his brother was going to come up in their relationship….

"Damon," she said suddenly, "let's go back to the hotel."

He looked at her, a little surprised. "Anything you want."

She pulled him to his feet, and both of them were just slightly unsteady as they made their way out the door. Heads turned to watch the stunning couple as they passed, but neither of them noticed. They were too busy wrapped up in the newfound wonder of each other.

As they walked down the dark streets, she leaned up and whispered in his ear. "I think we should start with the chair."

Then she ran.


End file.
